THE MYSTERIOUS CAT

Make no mistake about it, the cat is still a mystery. Every year researchers across the globe try to answer such fundamental questions as:

“Do cats like their owners?”

“Are cats really domesticated?”

“Do cats need us?”

“If our cats were larger, would they kill us?”

If you’re a cat owner, you’re probably shaking your head about now. And you should be. The answers are patently obvious to us, but for some reason, researchers approach the cat as if it were a newly discovered species, not a beloved companion animal that has lived with humans for thousands of years.

So they fashion scientific studies, answering questions we already know the answers to. The narrowness of their queries reveals more about the researchers’ biases than they do about cat nature. Cat owners know one thing: most cats don’t just let anyone into their world. They put up their guard, hold their secrets close, and close out all but those who they deem worthy of their trust. And trust doesn’t come overnight, either. Even the sweetest, most even-tempered cat doesn’t really relax in front of his owner until the owner has demonstrated good, predictable behavior over time. They may like you early on, as a playmate, and they may even expose their belly a time or two, but the kind of trust and love I’m talking about comes with time, and it’s only then that a cat will let down his guard with you and let you have a peek inside the inner workings of his soul. But even then, you must look closely and perceptively if you are to see what you’re being shown.

For this reason, cats don’t readily bow to the scientific method. Researchers would be better off examining the domestic cat in its natural habitat: the loving home. Or simply asking us. There’s little we enjoy talking about more.

Still, as cat owners, we know the answer to most of these questions first hand, but we’re also the first to acknowledge that cats hold a lot of their secrets close, and we, as companions, are probably as apt to glean these truths as are all the researchers out there combined.

Many of the problems researchers face are revealed by the questions they ask. Do our cats love us? Before they can answer that, they must define love. And then they must define it in terms of a species they barely understand. So even before they begin their quest, they’re hamstrung, often deciding upon measurable goals that are neither species appropriate or measurable in controlled environments. The results are often a mishmash of wishy-washy observations and extrapolations.

What about the real mysteries, the stuff that would enrich our relationships with our feline companions?

Cats are moody. Or more correctly, experience moods. They sometimes don’t want to be bothered; they have other things on their minds. But when the time is right, they seek us out for cuddling, head butts, purrs, or maybe just a little time sharing the same space. Cats are individuals, and they express their affection in as many ways as there are cats. Sure, there’s crossover, but it’s all a matter of degree and circumstance. Your cat may be all over you one day, and strangely aloof the very next. It’s all about what’s going on in their world at the time. A loving owner respects its a need for space, and that respect, over time, enhances the relationship and makes it deeper.

Cats seem to experience the world in a vastly different way than we do. While vision is our most important sense, it’s much less important to cats. In addition, they have a radically different view of the world. Take a moment and get down on the ground, at cat level, and look around. The world is a vastly different place, and what lies beyond the hedgerow could be a driveway, a waterfall, or a chasm leading to a place far, far away. Imagine not knowing what lies around the next corner? Not knowing if what was there yesterday will be there today. Imagine if the world worked outside your control, how many walks would you have to take down that path before accepting the relative permanence and safety of the world beyond the big door.

Did you smell that? No? Your cat did. But maybe smell isn’t the right way to describe what your cat experiences when he opens his mouth slightly and uses his tongue to guide additional odors, or components of those odors, to an olfactory organ in the roof of his mouth. Does a cat know how to get back home based on turning right at the yellow house, then left at the big stone with the cave-like cut out, or does he follow a scent trail of paint and lilacs and spore? What happens after a rain when the scent trail is washed away? When you walk in on your cat, dozing in the easy chair, and his ears twitch but his eyes remain sleep-closed, does he recognize the whisper of your slippers on Pergo or does the sound trigger his sense of smell? And what does that sense of smell mean? Does an impression form in your cat’s head, a visual representation, a sensory one, or a full-on VR 3-D representation of you, the room, and the world beyond the big door?

I think of this, the way the cat’s senses put him outside our understanding, as the cat world. We interact with our companions in the space where their world overlaps with ours. A temporal as well as physical coming together that resonates with us on an emotional level. And while we enjoy the time, at a subconscious level, we know that at any moment our cat might step back over the line into the cat world, closing us out until the next time our worlds overlap.

When you take your cat outside and he seems to have forgotten you exist, he ignores its favorite treat, the fishing toy dangled before it, and the scratch to the side of his head, don’t take it personally. Your cat is fully in the cat world now, and all you can really do is wait for his return.

What is it about cats and their people? What is the source of the strange allure? Is it their dependent independence? Is it the magical purr? Is it the way they amuse us with their antics and play? Is it the silent meow? Or is it something more, something deeper, something more spiritual than physical? For me, it seems like a bit of all those things. But there’s something else, something that I’ve felt time and time again; an affinity for the way they relax.

It may sound a bit strange, but think about the subtle joy and the loving jealousy you feel watching your cat relax. That languid stretch punctuated with a jaw-popping yawn. The methodical grooming of feline fur in a pool of sunlight on a chilly day. The unselfconscious curl into a relaxed ball. These activities give us pleasure, and maybe something deeper, a sense that this level of relaxation, this single-minded goal of comfort, is something we all aspire to.

This book is as much based on what my cats have taught me as what I’ve taught them. When you think about it, every cat knows how to walk and will do so, happily, without the burdensome harness and leash. The leash, to a cat, seems to denote the cessation of his being, a termination of the final escape route, a closing off of his ability to live in the moment. Getting your cat to accept, and then forget, the leash, is the goal. And though it could take weeks, or years, the walk is the practice.

Forget what you “know” about the cat and pick up on the truth through your day-to-day interactions. Your cat will tell you, loud and clear, who he is. You just have to listen.

CAT WALKER: BILL VANDER ZANDEN

MR. FIX-IT, AMATEUR SCIENTIST, OUTDOOR ENTHUSIAST, AND CAT WALKER

Bill Vander Zanden and his rescue cat, Kow, live near Chicago and enjoy regular walks in the neighborhood and shared time in the backyard. On YouTube, Zanden shares videos on everything from installing TV antennae to demoing how to use a power shovel.

At the time of the interview, Zanden had been taking Kow out for regular walks for about six years. “We’ll often be out for 30-45 minutes most days, but sometimes we’re out for six hours if I’m messing around in the yard. We often go out more than once a day. He rarely wants to come in.”

Kow, a black-and-white domestic shorthair, was ten years old at the time of the interview.

EARLY DAYS

Kow came to live with Zanden when Kow was about four years old.

“I got him from my sister who worked with a rescue group. Cats come and go at her place; she fosters cats. Kow doesn’t get along well with other cats, but he likes people and he sticks to me like glue.” There’s a fondness and respect that tinges Zanden’s voice when he talks about Kow, revealing the depth of their bond.

“As long as you’re not in a hurry, it’s all good.”

—Bill Vander Zanden

TRAINING DAYS

Zanden began training Kow soon after he got him; Kow was four years old. Zanden initially bought Kow a harness, but Kow rolled around and managed to get out. “It didn’t work for him, so I tried a dog collar that was more secure. Because cat collars have quick-release mechanisms, I felt safer with a dog collar.”

Once he got a collar Kow couldn’t wiggle out of, training him was simple. “He was pretty much trained from day one. I didn’t have any trouble getting him to walk on a leash. He never really fought the leash, but he’s perfectly happy to sit in the same spot for 20 minutes.”

FOLLOWING THE LEADER

When asked about the nature of their walks, Zanden explained that Kow likes to wander about on his leash. There’s a park across the street from their home and they’ll often end up there. “He moseys around slowly, sniffing at every little bump on the ground.”

When asked who leads who, Zanden says he picks the direction but Kow sets the pace. “Kow will keep pace with me and then, suddenly, he’ll stop and root around a bit. If we’re going to the park, we kind of zigzag there.”

In addition to the park, Zanden and Kow walk through the neighborhood and spend time in the backyard. “We both need to get out and enjoy the fresh air. We do that a lot. I’ll secure his 40-foot retractable leash over a post in the garden so he can hang out in the yard with me.”

Kow wants to go out for his walks, rain, snow, or shine. “No matter what the weather, Kow wants to be outside. If it’s raining, he doesn’t care, he’ll stand in the rain. We’ll walk even when the snow is 5–6 inches deep, but we’ll stay on the sidewalk or walk in the street. We don’t do that a lot because they salt the streets here, but he has no problem with the cold.”

TOOLS OF THE TRADE

Zanden uses a dog collar because Kow quickly figured out how to get out of a cat harness. He also uses a retractable leash on walks, which allows him to give Kow more range when something interesting crops up. He plans to reevaluate using a cat harness for safety reasons.

CAT-WALKING TIP

Zanden says that if you’re about to embark on leash training your cat, just go out and do it. “You don’t know what your cat will do until you try.”